The devil went down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to steal. He was in a bind 'cos he was way behind; he was willin' to make a deal.

We should have been going out tonight.
Seeing a movie and having something to eat was mentioned....
But no.
We've had the very lives sucked out of us, courtesy of a four hour visit to Ikea.
Four . Fucking . Hours .
If I were ever offered the choice of either facing Diablo Himself, or taking a trip to Ikea....I'd be willing to take my chances.

Thank fuck I've got something to smoke tonight.

Again, I'm the one they all run from. Diatribes of clouded sun. Someone help me find the pause button.

It's not like it's new territory, living with somebody else. I've done it once before. But it's certainly unfamiliar.
Talking about it on countless occasions led my mind to being some-what brainwashed into thinking I was prepared for how I would feel. And thinking I'd covered all bases, played through visioned scenery in my head, imagined all that I could, I was still way off the reality.

Work has been extremely slow, and coupled with repeated brushes with impending financial doom, completely changing my day to day living habits and a general feeling of being 'surplus to requirements' in my new environment has been taking it's toll.
A few days last week were the worst. Previous to that, my moods had been up and down more frequently than a prostitutes' knickers. But when I came crashing down last week, well, I really felt the bump at the bottom. And worst of all, I did my best impression of a hedgehog, rolling up into a ball, folding inside myself, trying to hide away. I know it's the worst thing I could have done. On reflection, that is. At the time it felt like the safest place I could have been. A place that had the smallest effect on those around me.
"Those around me"....
That's what's been the biggest change. Previously, I'd been in the safety of my own house. Just me, the music and Marley - my houseplant. The down times there were easier to handle. I didn't have to play the hedgehog. I didn't have to wrap up and roll inside myself, hiding way. Nobody else was affected by my mood and at the time I don't think I realised just how much easier that can be.

Changing from living on my own, to living in a house with four other people has been the biggest change that I've had to deal with, certainly in the last 10 years. Changing jobs, moving house; it's all child's play compared to this. There's very little one can do to prepare. It's all fine and dandy thinking things through, playing out scenarios in one's mind, but the reality can deliver a blow to the stomach, enough to takes one's wind away.

It's very scary. Even though they aren't strangers, it's still very scary.
There's the whole 'being accepted' thing. Then there's the 'not wanting to be seen as a kind of replacement' thing. Not wanting to upset the balance of their routine, feeling like you want to be included, but that repetitive internal voice saying, "You're getting in the way. You're just in the way". It's very difficult to find a gentle balance between involvement and intrusion.

But stop. This isn't a 'shit stinks' post.
It's terribly easy to think that the only person having these confusing and frustrating feelings is me. There's four other people to consider now. And remembering just that is what pulled me out of the depths. Everything must be strange and odd and weird and different for each one of them too.
I don't want to be moping around, worrying about a lack of work. I don't want things like that bringing me down, consequently bringing the mood of the house down. It's embarrassing being seen by people when I'm feeling like that. So, my focus has shifted. I've seen where the true priorities lie and it's nothing to do with having no work, or moving to an area where I have no friends, or finding myself scraping the very bottom of my financial barrel. It's being with the people that I love. And growing our relationships together.

There's a feeling that I'm learning things all over again.
And it's a nice feeling.
A welcome feeling.

Go to bed, everything's alright. Don't you know the whole world's changing as you sleep at night.

The Girl has just stated that she can tell the difference in taste between cake mixes that are made with plain flour or self-raising flour.
Now that's surely a talent!

You got me racin'. Anticipatin'. And I don't think I can handle this.

Further evidence of the very strange phenomenon of reading whilst on the toilet:

I took this picture on my camera phone on Saturday night. This quite clearly shows evidence of a 'toilet-reader' in my brother's house.
What the hell is going on?!?!
It's all very, very wrong if you ask me. When you need to go to the toilet (obviously talking solids here), you should simply sit down, do your business, wipe up, flush, wash your hands and leave. The whole process should be a matter of minutes and there should be no, repeat no time to read anything!

Crosswords through the bathroom door, while someone sings the theme-tune to the news.

Slightly concerning moments in our relationship; Part Three.

She rambled on; something about the mirror and possibly being there for a while. Mid-way through her nervously delivered explanation, I was already shaking my head in disbelief. Disbelief and quite frankly shock at the sight of The Girl taking her Steven King book with her, to read on the toilet!